


The Next Day

by SquigglyAverageJoe



Series: Something Wrong [5]
Category: Yandere Simulator (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:08:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27289162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquigglyAverageJoe/pseuds/SquigglyAverageJoe
Summary: The first time, she thinks it’s a nightmare. The second time, she just thinks it’s weird.The third time, she thinks she’s going crazy.And then, when the blade clicks against one of her ribs and she screams, something else clicks—this is a hundred percent real. The week keeps repeating. Her death keeps repeating.And there’s no end in sight.______
Series: Something Wrong [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921147
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	The Next Day

The weather’s been all sorts of fucked up this week, Kokona notes, walking to school in silence with Saki. She’s exhausted, she didn’t sleep well last night, and then woke up in a flurry of panic and tears, and it’s so, so cold this morning. She does not have the energy to go on through the day.

She shivers as another gust of wind blows, shaking cherry blossom petals from the nearby trees around the school. They shower over the approaching student body and fall to the ground, light pink against the grey, just to get crushed by student’s feet as they continued to move onwards.

”Is everything okay, Kokona?” Saki asked. “You’ve been quiet this morning.”

”Just tired,” she responds. “Are you okay?”

”Also tired,” she says. “But less than you, I guess.” She chuckles. “How’s the drama club?”

Kokona just groans. “I’m not sure if it was as good as a fit as I thought it’d be.”

Akademi looks the same it always does, the doors wide open, but Kokona finds herself glancing around—Kizana is at her locker and she prays she won’t turn around and see her, she doesn’t want to talk to her. Oka Ruto, shyly and quickly walks by Mesume and her friends and disgust swells up somewhere in her chest. It isn’t until she catches a head of black hair she stops glancing around and finds her face heating up. Saki notices. “Who?” She asks, except, she knows who. She grins and nudges her. “Where is he?”

”In front of us some feet, to your right...” She keeps walking. The two of them go to their respective lockers to change their shoes. Kokona realizes she never asked about the cooking club. “How’s the cooking club going?”

”Great,” she says. “I’m getting better at my pastries—I really need to give you one, one of these days.” Saki was always looking for an excuse to feed Kokona—she seemed to think it was her responsibility to make sure Kokona had a full stomach.

”You’re cooking’s going to make me fat,” Kokona responds. “I don’t need to gain much more weight, Saki.”

”There’s nothing wrong with gaining a few pounds,” Saki says. “Especially if they’re all pastries.”

”Yeah,” Kokona says. “For you, but the _first_ place I gain weight in is my breasts, and I don’t need that. I don’t have the awesome genes you do that keeps you so skinny.” Her uniform’s tight enough in the chest as it is. She nudges Saki in the ribs, teasingly.

Saki giggles. “So,” she says, and grins. “Yamada, huh?”

She feels her face heat up. “I didn’t realize he was your type,” Saki says. “You gonna tell him?”

They haven’t been in school that long—a week? Two? Three if she’s generous, but she had lost all concept of time over the month away from school. “I don’t know, we barely know each other, and I have so much on my plate...” She sighs. “He’d probably reject me.”

”Aw,” Saki says. “Kokona, you’re a real catch. If he rejects you, he’s just not worth it.” There’s a pause. “You could always confess to him, at the tree behind the school this Friday.”

Kokona snorts. “You don’t believe in that myth, do you, Saki-chan?”

Saki shrugs. “You know how the occult club freaks me out but I think Oka Ruto is really nice? She lent me a book and it was...” She hesitates. “It was about this girl who didn’t believe in myths and stuff, but she found a myth, one sort of like the one about the tree behind school? Except it had something to do with murder, and the myth like, possessed her and made her murder nine people, and I just know that I don’t want to murder people.”

Kokona frowns, but she supposes she doesn’t blame Saki for not wanting to murder people. 

“I _made_ pastries!” Saki declares at lunch. She had made them more at the beginning of lunch, really quickly while Kokona took a phone call and used the bathroom—and now, she’s done. “I had to chill the dough-batter thing... Maybe they’re not really pastries, just—“ She just hands the tray to her. “Take one!”

Kokona smiles. “I’ll take _one._ ” She lifts one off the tray and bites into it. “It tastes really good, Saki.”

Saki beams like this is the highest praise she’s ever received. “I’ve already eaten like, six.”

”Six?”

”This is better then any lunch we could ever get, because it’s ninety percent sugar.” She grabs a seventh off of the tray and grins. “God, I can’t wait for class to be over.”

”Math?”

”No,” Saki responds. “I just think that walking home beside you’s the best part of my day.” A student passes by. “Oh! Raibaru, do you want one?”

Raibaru stops. “Huh?” She blinks. “Oh, sure. Thank you, Miyu-san.” She takes one. “Have you seen Osana anywhere? I can’t find her.”

”I think I saw her on her way to the bathroom a few minutes ago,” Kokona says.

”Which one?” Raibaru’s never far from Osana—honestly, Kokona isn’t entirely sure how Osana managed to pull herself away to use the bathroom.

”The one on this floor,” she says—and Raibaru is off, gone in a blink—Kokona gets the feeling she isn’t going to take so much as a bite out of her pastry, probably too focused on finding Osana again. “Wow,” she says to Saki. “They sure are close.”

”Not that much closer than the two of us,” Saki points out and Kokona believes that’s true. She bites into her pastry and is just about to say something, so the two of them can talk, but—

A bloodcurdling scream echoes throughout the hallway—it’s not a pleasant sound. Kokona frowns. “Did...” Saki looks at her—and suddenly, the floor they’re on seems very, very empty. “Did that come from the bathroom?”

Hesitantly, they both move towards the bathroom, Saki trails behind her, shaking and probably terrified, but at the very least, Kokona wasn’t going in there alone.

The lights were dim, and the first thing Kokona saw wasn’t Osana on the ground, or Raibaru on her knees next to her, or the puddle of blood on the floor, but the mirror—and in it’s reflection, she saw all of it at once.

Osana’s throat was cut, eyes half-lidded, laying on her side. There was so much blood—and she was obviously dead, and Raibaru was sitting beside her, hand in her’s, clinging onto it like a life-line, phone in her other hand, a buzzing, tinny voice from it’s speaker.

”Rival-chan, what _happened?_ ” Saki exclaims, the horror on her face audible. Kokona’s trying to get that singular pastry in her stomach down, there’s so much blood.

“I-I...” She wipes at her eyes. She just throws the phone at Saki, silently crying, shaking—Kokona’s still in shock.

Kokona feels absolutely useless. “I’ll go tell a teacher,” she says, and Saki nods, starts speaking on the phone, wraps an arm comfortingly around Raibaru while she shakes, mutters something about how this shouldn’t have happened, how she should have been there.

Kokona basically runs to a nearby classroom—a brown haired teacher looks at her, when she enters. “Th-There was a... Something happened, there’s a dead student in the girl’s bathroom!”

The alarm on her face is instantaneous, she moves forward quickly. “Where?”

Kokona shows her to the girl’s bathroom, still kind of shaky, tries to say something about how the police have been called, they heard a scream—

A girl runs down the hallway rapidly—they’re so fast, they’re just a grey blur, and they launch themselves at the teacher, run a knife clean into their rib cage, drags it up and the teacher grows still, panic forever on her face as she drops to the ground dead.

Kokona doesn’t even have time to scream before her throat’s slit like Osana’s.

She wakes up, in her bed, coughing. Her throat’s a bit hoarse, sore, and she’s still panicked. It’s not until she’s sitting up in bed, she notices her eyes are burning like she’s about to cry and her throat hurts like hell.

She coughs once more and groans—just a nightmare, she realizes and lets herself fall back onto her back in bed, eyes on the ceiling. _Jesus Christ, what a nightmare_.

Her morning routine’s a bit of a hassle. Her phone on her bed, beside her pillow, vibrates and she picks it up to answer, already kind of knowing it’s Saki. _“Just texting you good morning! Do I need to bring you a muffin or anything?”_

She chuckles—Saki is kind of predictable, but it just makes her comforting. She’s sweet, warm, a constant in her life, and Saki doesn’t care how tight her uniform looks on her and that she sometimes has to cancel their plans last minute because one of the men called her last minute and made an offer she couldn’t refuse. Saki never presses when Kokona tells her she doesn’t want her to come over because, _really,_ her house is such a mess, it’s embarrassing right now. It’s ways compliments, attempts to cheer her up, consolement during rough times, and around these times, Saki’s very presence was consoling.

She notices she fell asleep in one of her mother’s old shirts, one she got at college and was incredibly baggy on her, but on Kokona, it’s a bit tighter—because of her bust, she’s sure, but if she focuses, she can smell her mother’s strawberry flavored lipstick and the honey in her shampoo.

...She hasn’t thought about her mother in awhile.

She sighs again, pulls off her shirt, throws on her too tight uniform shirt, pulls on the skirt, her stockings her shoes and gets to work on her hair.

Her father is, just like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, slouched over, face on the dinner table, one arm beneath it. He smells like cheap alcohol and cigarettes, hair greasy and he just radiates exhaustion.

In minutes, the kitchen smells like coffee and she places a cup beside him, gulps down one of her own and hopes the burning, bitter heat takes the salt and pain from her throat—it doesn’t.

Her father stirs. “Kokona?”

”Morning,” she says.

He groans and rubs at his temples—another terrible hangover, she’s sure. “God, I’m thirsty, did you—“ He looks down at the mug beside him, smiles. “Thanks, sweetie.”

”I need to head to school,” she says, adjusting her uniform—no adjusting is going to really make it comfortable on her. “When do you think you’ll be off from work tonight?”

He sighs. “Late.”

Right. “Alright,” she says, but ‘late’ is not a time. “Love you.” She leans over and kisses his cheek, his face scratchy.

”Have a good day at school, Kokona.” His words are slightly slurred, but more from fatigue and nausea than anything, she’s sure.

Saki’s waiting at the same place she always is for Kokona. She grins when she sees her, hugs her tightly. “Morning!”

”Morning, Saki.” She fights a yawn and they start walking to school. A few minutes pass.

The weather’s been all sorts of fucked up this week, Kokona notes, walking to school in silence with Saki. She’s exhausted, she didn’t sleep well last night, and then woke up in a flurry of panic and tears, and it’s so, so cold this morning. She does not have the energy to go on through the day.

She shivers as another gust of wind blows, shaking cherry blossom petals from the nearby trees around the school. They shower over the approaching student body and fall to the ground, light pink against the grey, just to get crushed by student’s feet as they continued to move onwards.

”Is everything okay, Kokona?” Saki asked. “You’ve been quiet this morning.”

”Just...” She frowns—something’s off, but she keeps going. She doesn’t want to bother Saki. “...tired,” she finishes. “Are you okay?”

”Also tired,” she says. “But less than you, I guess.” She chuckles. “How’s the drama club?”

Kokona just groans. “I’m not sure if it was as good as a fit as I thought it’d be.”

Akademi looks the same it always does, the doors wide open, but Kokona finds herself glancing around—Kizana is at her locker and she prays she won’t turn around and see her, she doesn’t want to talk to her. Oka Ruto, shyly and quickly walks by Mesume and her friends and disgust swells up somewhere in her chest. It isn’t until she catches a head of black hair she stops glancing around and finds her face heating up. Saki notices. “Who?” She asks, except, she knows who. She grins and nudges her. “Where is he?”

”In front of us some feet, to your right...” She keeps walking. The two of them go to their respective lockers to change their shoes. Kokona realizes she never asked about the cooking club. “How’s the cooking club going?”

”Great,” she says. “I’m getting better at my pastries—I really need to give you one, one of these days.” Saki was always looking for an excuse to feed Kokona—she seemed to think it was her responsibility to make sure Kokona had a full stomach.

”You’re cooking’s going to make me fat,” Kokona responds. “I don’t need to gain much more weight, Saki.”

She stops in her tracks—Saki turns to her, grasps her shoulder. “Kokona-chan?”

”I’m...” Her head is _spinning._ “I’m sorry, I just got...” She clears her throat—she just had the strongest feeling of deja vu, it literally made her dizzy. “Sorry. I’m fine.” 

They continue on. “Um, what was I saying? Oh, right! There’s nothing wrong with gaining a few pounds,” Saki says. “Especially if they’re all pastries.”

”Yeah,” Kokona says. “For you, but the _first_ place I gain weight in is my breasts, and I don’t need that. I don’t have the awesome genes you do that keeps you so skinny.” Her uniform’s tight enough in the chest as it is. She nudges Saki in the ribs, teasingly.

Saki giggles. “So,” she says, and grins. “Yamada, huh?”

She feels her face heat up. “I didn’t realize he was your type,” Saki says. “You gonna tell him?”

Yeah, they definitely have had this conversation before. Whatever—that was the thing with Saki. Things were familiar. Just... never this familiar.

“I don’t know,” she says. “We barely know each other, and I have so much on my plate...” She sighs. “He’d probably reject me.”

”Aw,” Saki says. “Kokona, you’re a real catch.” She looks over at her smiling—and she knows that she means it. “If he rejects you, he’s just not worth it.” There’s a pause. “You could always confess to him, at the tree behind the school this Friday.”

Kokona snorts. “You don’t believe in that myth, do you, Saki-chan?”

Saki shrugs. “You know how the occult club freaks me out but I think Oka Ruto is really nice?” As a matter of fact, Kokona does. It makes sense—after all, her and Saki are best friends. She nods, but Saki barely even notices, continuing on. “

She lent me a book and it was...” She hesitates. “It was about this girl who didn’t believe in myths and stuff, but she found a myth, one sort of like the one about the tree behind school? Except it had something to do with murder, and the myth like, possessed her and made her murder nine people, and I just know that I don’t want to murder people.”

Kokona frowns, but she supposes she doesn’t blame Saki for not wanting to murder people. It’s a pretty basic simple thing. She just thinks that’s a thing everyone should not want to do—murder people.

She scratches so much at her arm as she walks to the bathroom that her nails break skin and she starts bleeding a bit. She keeps glancing around as she exits and bumps into Osana and then grabs her arm, staring at her throat—there’s no cut of any sort. “Um,” Osana said. “You’re... kind of freaking me out, what are you doing?”

She frowns, hesitates. “I... don’t know.” They stare at each other. 

“...Good talk, Kokona,” she says and enters the bathroom.

When she finds Saki, holding a tray of pastries and speaking to Raibaru, she overhears, “ _Have you seen Osana?”_ And inserts herself into the conversation. “She’s in the girl’s bathroom, this floor,” she says and Raibaru’s expression floods with relief—and she’s gone.

Saki turns to her, gaze triumphant. “I _made_ pastries!” She exclaims. “Sort of? I...” She looks down at them. “They’re good.”

”Great,” Kokona says and she grabs one, hesitates. “Has...” She swallows. “Has today felt weird to you at all?”

Saki blinks. “...No,” she says. “Has it for you?”

”Yeah, kind of, I...” She looks down at her pastry. There’s no way she can stomach it right now. “I know this is going to sound weird, but do you think we can set down the pastries and go to the bathroom for a second?”

Saki frowns. “Okay?” She sets down the pastries. “Let’s go.” She walks beside her until they reach the bathroom—there is no blood, no corpse. Osana and Raibaru stand by the sinks, giggling.

”Honestly, Raibaru,” Osana says, but she’s smiling. “I’m fine. It was three minutes.”

”Right, right.” She rubs her wrist—she’s blushing, clearly slightly embarrassed. “Sorry...” She notices them. “Oh, hey, guys...”

Osana glances at them. “Did you freak Raibaru out about where I was?” She asks.

”No?” Raibaru says.

”...What?”

Her and Saki go back to the cooking club. Saki giggles. “That was weird?”

”I don’t know what happened,” she says, honestly. “Just...Some weird nightmare, I guess.” She grabs her pastry again and takes a bite. “This is really good!”

Saki grins. “Good—I’ve already eaten like, eight.” She picks up another. “I really need to return Oka’s book—but it was so nice of her to lend it to me, it was a really good book! I didn’t even know I liked horror that much.”

Somewhere in the hallway, there’s footsteps. “What’s it about?”

”Just a lot of minor plots to add to a whole, big, weird plot,” she said. “I didn’t even think I liked reading!”

Kokona takes another bite on her pastry. In front of her, Saki frowns. “Huh? What are—“

Pain shoots through her stomach and she gasps—when she looks down quickly, there’s the metal tip of a knife jutting out of her abdomen and blood is soaking her uniform. It pulls out and she’s shoved to the ground, face down, and she gasps for breath and—

There’s screaming above her. Saki, her sweet, gentle best friend, fucking launches herself at her attacker with a roar of anger, like she’s gonna wrest the murder weapon straight out of her hands. Saki does not have any upper body strength, so she fails miserably, and suddenly, the knife is up to the hilt in Saki—they drag it up, tearing through skin and organs and her eyes grow wide. Unnecessarily, they yank it out and stab it into the back of Saki’s neck before throwing her to the ground.

She can’t breathe—she coughs, staring at her attacker, both her and Saki’s blood on the blade, dripping onto the floor, she tries to get up, her hand slips on a puddle of blood—and when she looks back at Saki, she can clearly see bloody, torn muscle from her chest. She’s not breathing.

The world goes black.

She wakes up in her bed, coughing and nauseous to top it off. “What the fuck?” She asks no one, clawing at her throat. She still can’t breathe. She scrambles to grab her phone, texts Saki. _“Are you okay?”_

 _”Oh, I was just about to text you!”_ She texts back quickly. _“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay? You haven’t been acting like yourself lately. I didn’t want to talk to you about it over text, but I’ve been kind of worried, did something happen?”_

She rubs at her eyes—this isn’t... making any sense. “Oh, _god._ ” She still feels nauseous, holy shit, she just _died_ , it felt so real, that couldn’t have been a nightmare, right? She tries to text back, but halfway through the word, she runs to the bathroom, gets on her knees and retches the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

It’s full of blood when she looks.

She pales, tries to stand, grasps the bathroom counter tightly. She doesn’t... understand. _I’m going crazy,_ she thinks.

She drags herself back to bed, texts Saki she isn’t going to school and curls up beneath the covers. She doesn’t want to wake her father. She stares up at the ceiling and tries really, really hard to think, to sort through whatever the fuck _happpened_ and she gets nowhere, all she gets is a headache.

A few hours later, the door to her bedroom opens and her father stands in the doorway. He still smells like alcohol, is still clearly hung over. “Kokona, shouldn’t you be at school?”

”I’m not going,” she responds—there is no way in hell she is going to school today. “Sick. Threw up.”

He steps forward, sits on the edge of her bed and strokes her hair. “Are you okay?” He asks. “Do I need to get you to the hospital?”

”No,” she says. “I’m fine, I just... need to rest. I’ll go tomorrow.” Except, she doesn’t think she wants to go tomorrow. Honestly, she wants to skip the entire week of school, maybe never go back. Images of Saki, cut open and eyes wide, race through her mind—she should have told her, she thinks. Should have told Saki not to go to school.

Her father sighs. “Okay.” The bed creaks when he stands and he quietly leaves the room and leaves her alone.

She grabs her phone again—and realizes she never responded to Saki’s text. _Shit._

She responds, sounds absolutely crazy so deletes her response and tries to again. She still sounds crazy. She starts her third attempt at, _Okay, I know I’m going to sound crazy_ _, but_ and manages from there before she sends—Saki doesn’t respond immediately. She’s at school, probably in class.

She rubs at her temples. She had _plans_ for today, she groans. And now she’s too scared to leave the house because she’s convinced herself she’ll be murdered—she watched Saki get murdered and didn’t think to tell her maybe school would be dangerous today.

An hour or two passes and she gets out of bed. She feels sore, tired—her father’s likely already gone to work, so she has the house to herself, but she just feels paranoid. She glances in the corner of her room—she has a wooden baseball bat there, just in case someone breaks in or anything.

She goes and makes sure the front door’s locked—she doesn’t feel safe. She grabs a soda from the fridge, sits on the couch and rubs at her temples—the phone rings, chipper and indifferent to her migraine and her fear. She hesitates—a part of her wants to let it ring until whoever it is stops calling—but what if it’s important? She bites her lip, but goes and picks up the phone.

The voice on the phone’s masculine. “Harukawa?”

She swallows. “Who is this?”

”Ronshaku loans—we’re calling about the personal loan you took out.” _Fuck._

“I think you’re trying to call my father,” she says. “He’s not here right now, he’s at work right now, I’m sorry. I can tell him you called later, when he comes home.”

”Do you know if he’s going to be able to get us our money anytime soon? The interest rises ten percent Friday.” Which is playing a huge role in why they aren’t managing to get the money.

”...I don’t,” she says truthfully—lying won’t get her anywhere.

There’s a hum. “You shouldn’t borrow money you’ll never give back.”

“No,” she says. “We’re working on it, I swear.”

”Good,” they say. “Because you know what happens when you take out loans you can’t pay off, don’t you?”

”...Nothing good?”

”Nothing good,” they say. “Expect a call Friday morning.”

They hang up and she sighs, puts the phone down. Money problems always stress her out.

The next day comes quickly, after an entire night of her hugging her knees to her chest in her bed and scratching her arm until the first layer of skin on the back of her forearm came off, stuck beneath her fingernails.

She’s careful when she puts on her uniform, still paranoid when she leaves. Her father’s on the couch this morning.

Saki’s where she always is, and she smiles when she sees Kokona, but it’s the slightest bit strained—and in her heart, as frustrating as it kind of is and as terrified as she really is, she can’t blame Saki. “Hey, Kokona-chan,” she says, voice sweeter than sugar, eyes calm. “Is... everything okay?”

”I...” She swallows. “I’m fine. Let’s just go.”

”You... sounded kind of freaked out yesterday,” she says, as they walk. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

”I’m fine,” she insists. “...What did I miss yesterday?”

”Not much,” Saki says. “Oh, but the drama club got a new member, Ayano Aishi! She seems decent, you’ll probably meet her. And I made really good pastries, I think, and... Honestly, that’s all that matters.”

She nods—because she had been so paranoid the night before, she didn’t get any sleep, and now it’s coming to bite her in the ass. She’s exhausted. “Sounds important.”

”Yeah!” Saki agrees. She grins—Kokona forces herself to mirror it, but she’s not really feeling it.

She’s falling asleep on the rooftop beside Saki. “Oh, Kokona,” she says. “You look exhausted. What’s wrong?”

”Didn’t sleep well,” she says, rubs at her eyes. She props her elbows up on the railing of the roof, tries to keep her breathing even, which is honestly just making her even more tired. “It’s...” She thinks back to... she isn’t even sure what to call it, but she thinks back to it, thinks about Saki being murdered, thinks about Osana in a puddle of blood, thinks about dying.

Saki squeezes her shoulder, gently, comfortingly. “I’ll go grab a soda from the vending machine, in the cafeteria,” she says. “Those have caffeine, right? Maybe it’ll help wake you up.”

She nods and Saki walks off—she hears her footsteps retreating, and even though she’s certain someone’s going to try to kill her, she can’t bring herself to move. Her legs hurt—falling asleep like this would be uncomfortable.

...Quiet footsteps sound behind her and she’s certain it’s Saki, so she doesn’t think much of it—she feels safe around Saki. Somehow, her tired mind doesn’t quite process that her skin is crawling, as if it wants her to go over the railing in an attempt to get away, to put as much distance as possible between herself and whatever that is behind her.

A hand presses itself against her back, and Kokona grabs the railing and tries to turn around—whoever it is is in the girl’s uniform, with black hair and there’s more footsteps, and maybe Saki’s returning but that doesn’t matter.

The girl behind her jerks her hand back like Kokona’s clothed back burned her palm, and she takes a step back from her, raising both of her arms in surrender. “Get the fuck away from me,” Kokona snarls. She’s turned around, but she keeps her hands on the railing, knuckles white with how tight her grip is.

The girl’s expression shifts from shock to confusion. “I was just asking if you were okay?” She says.

Kokona blinks—her heart is hammering, because she’s certain this girl was about to shove her off, but her expression looks genuine. Saki’s back, holding a can of soda and smiling—she looks from Kokona to the girl. “Oh—hi Ayano.”

”Hi, Saki.” ...She knows Saki. Ayano’s looking at her weird and without another word, she turns and walks away.

Saki looks at Kokona. “What was that about?” She asks.

Kokona feels her face heat up. “I snapped at her... for some reason.” She doesn’t want to get into it with Saki, because she’s not entirely sure she’s not going insane.

Saki’s smile is much more sympathetic and she cracks open the can, presses it into Kokona’s hand. It’s cold with her fingers curled around it, but also, not really. She brings it up to her lips and downs at least half the can—it’s sweet on her tongue, but she’s pretty sure it’s gone flat. Saki stands next to her—her presence is comforting. Kokona doesn’t think Saki will make for good protection if a murderer comes for her, but Saki does make her feel just a little bit safer, still. Maybe she’s selfish and doesn’t want to die alone, or maybe she just really hopes the murderer doesn’t really want to kill the both of them, and will leave her alone if she’s with Saki.

She looks over at her. “Did you want some?” She asks, because she’s more than willing to share with her.

She only shakes her head. “I think you need it more, Kokona-chan.”

Class is impossible. Kokona does not have the mental capacity to look at Taro or even think about Taro—she just wants to get home. Saki walks beside her, makes sure she gets home safely and then walks home herself, not quite understanding why Kokona seems to worried, just really concerned. 

She unlocks the door to her home—her father isn’t there. It’s empty, quiet. The minute she’s inside, she locks the door, trudges to her room and collapses into bed.

In a few minutes, there’s a noise outside, and her paranoid mind makes her get to her feet and look outside the window in her room—but there’s nothing there.

She’s still paranoid when she sits back down in her bed. She waits—the door to her bedroom swings open and she sits up and grabs her phone, ready to call the police.

There’s a long, long pause. The person in her hallway is dressed all in black and they wear a mask. They have dark hair—and they’re running towards her.

Kokona manages to dial a nine and kicks her attacker—it doesn’t do much, but they stumble backwards and in her haste to get two ones, she actually manages to dial a two.

They have a knife—they slash at her, but it’s shallow when it lands on her chest and she tries to roll away and off her bed, struggles to get to her feet, but whoever this is, they’re much faster than her and they’re already there. She’s cornered—they stab her in her abdomen—

She screams—but she doesn’t think there’s anyone, anyone other than herself and her killer, to actually hear her.

Maybe her killer isn’t super experienced—she feels the knife click against one of her ribs, but they only pull the knife out, and push it back in so it slips between her ribs. It pierces something and suddenly, she can’t move. Her scream dies in her throat, suddenly, and she goes limp.

The funny part, is when she wakes up, there’s a weird pain directly in between her ribs, exactly where she was stabbed.


End file.
